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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24697786">Spew Magic Like a Rogue Dragon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundofez/pseuds/soundofez'>soundofez</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Four Fools and a Fire [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Leagues and Legends - E. Jade Lomax, Soul Eater</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, HOWEVER. he is also Weird AF, Multi, One Shot Collection, Other, also i have a lot of feelings for one (1) sebastian black, and i need to compensate for how little screen time he had in the main series, and now that i'm not trapped in his perspective i can finally Indulge, godDAMN do i love bashing ox though, like. he is a good boy and i love him very much, liz is a hopeless romantic change my mind, soul is so awkward someone help him, star is so gentle someone help m e, star is still a dumbass but he has brains in there Somewhere</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:20:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,907</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24697786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundofez/pseuds/soundofez</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Black Star-centric side-stories set in the Leagues &amp; Legends universe/the Four Fools and a Fire series, all lightly ship-flavored. Apply your preferred prescription :)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Black Star &amp; Liz Thompson, Black Star &amp; Soul Eater Evans, Maka Albarn &amp; Black Star</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Four Fools and a Fire [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583935</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. meet cute - Liz Thompson</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>written for <a href="https://se-rarepair-day.tumblr.com/">@se-rarepair-day</a>, january 2020// <strong>elegance</strong>. originally posted on <a href="https://soundofez.tumblr.com/post/190313719993/meet-cute">tumblr</a>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time Liz saw Seb, she thought he was about to die.</p><p>She’d thought she was close to death, too, but that was par for the course. She wouldn’t have given in, no matter how her brain screamed futility. She’d been in worse binds, and she had Patty at her side. At worst, a civilian would die.</p><p>Par for the course.</p><p>But Seb had turned the tide, had fought off the monsters with fists of gold. In the chaos of battle he’d had the grace of a dancer, sure and elegant. Through the shimmer of her magic shield, Liz had fallen in love.</p><p>“Can I see your shield?” Seb asked, later, when they were safe. “It didn’t look very strong.”</p><p>Liz glared and fell out of love. “I’d like to see you do better.”</p><p>Seb grinned at the challenge. The expression didn’t waver as he closed his eyes and tugged at the air. In a moment, he had pulled twice as much magic from the air as Liz and Patty could on a good day, combined.</p><p>“Showoff,” Liz accused. “You don’t need that much magic to make a shield.”</p><p>Seb held out the mass of flickering gold fire like an offering. “I don’t know how to make a shield,” he explained. “Never had to.”</p><p>“Of course not,” Liz grumbled. She dipped her hands into the fire. It started to fade as soon as it left Seb’s hands; she worked quickly before it could set.</p><p>She ended up with a small square sheet of pulsing gold. Seb snuffed out his handful of flame (Liz was offended by the waste) and took it.</p><p>There was a reverence to the way he held it— like it was fragile and breakable. For a mage of his caliber, Liz didn’t doubt that he could.</p><p>“If you moved this knot,” said Seb. “The corners are fragile.”</p><p>“If I do that, the side will fall out,” Liz argued.</p><p>Seb shook his head, pulled a pen out of his pocket to poke. “Here, see?”</p><p>Liz rolled her eyes. “If I had more magic, maybe,” she said through gritted teeth. “But if I do what you want—” She reached over and made the adjustment.</p><p>The shield exploded into a ball of sparks. Seb shouted in surprise. Then he burst into laughter, long and loud.</p><p>Liz stared. “You’re nuts,” she informed him.</p><p>“You’re amazing!” he replied, and maybe Liz was still a little bit in love after all, because she laughed back.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. color mix (sky) - Soul Evans</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>written for <a href="https://se-rarepair-day.tumblr.com/">@se-rarepair-day</a>, february 2020// <strong>work of art</strong>. originally posted on <a href="https://soundofez.tumblr.com/post/190970921123/color-mix-sky">tumblr</a>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Soul, right?”</p><p>Soul jumped and turned to face the speaker. “Yes,” he said belatedly. “Sebastian… Black?”</p><p>The other man pulled a face. “It’s Seb.” Soul started to apologize, but the expression slipped from Seb’s face like a passing cloud. “You’re free, right?” said Seb. “Can you help me with something?”</p><p>Soul cast a glance behind him, where the rest of their research team sat some distance away. (Harv and Kim were working on something together, but the Thompsons were unoccupied.) “I can try,” said Soul, hopefully before the silence had stretched too long.</p><p>“It’s not magework,” said Seb easily. “I’m dying my hair.”</p><p>Soul blinked down at the shorter man. “Out <em>here</em>?” he blurted, referring to the ruins around them. They were on an academic expedition; the nearest town was hours away. “By yourself? <em>Why?</em>”</p><p>Seb broke eye contact to shove a hand through his hair. “The roots are showing,” he grumbled.</p><p>Seb’s fingers revealed the gradient in his hair, a deep black that passed from rich sky blue to a cloudier, faded grey. Soul’s fingers itched for a paintbrush. He’d never been good at the still-lifes his tutors had asked for, but he’d always loved mixing colors.</p><p>He stopped himself from leaning forward. “Oh,” he said dumbly.</p><p>Seb waited patiently for a moment. “So?” he asked at last. “Will you help or not?”</p><p>Soul jumped again. “Oh. Okay.” And he did, clumsily, staining his hands a dark teal.</p><p>Seb laughed when Soul asked how he’d kept his hands so clean. “Practice,” said the smaller man, shaking water from his hands. “You’ve never dyed your hair before?”</p><p>Soul shook his head.</p><p>“Not even bleach?” Seb whistled appreciatively. “Your hair is nice.” He tugged at Soul’s bangs, more gently than Soul had thought him capable of. “I’ll share my supplies with you, if you want.”</p><p>“Thanks?”</p><p>Seb grinned. “Think it over.”</p><p>The teal on Soul’s hands remained, slow-fading, for another week.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. the war goes on without you - Maka Albarn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>Max Albarn was usually all wiry strength and indomitable pride, a ramrod straight spine and perfect square posture, but now his back was bowed, his shoulders quietly sloped. Oscar had never realized before how thin his classmate was, how small and fragile. It looked wrong.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He turned back to his paper. They weren’t friends, he reminded himself. And Albarn had plenty, anyway, if he needed a shoulder to cry on.</em>
</p><p>- We Fill the Skies, Chapter 2: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22004395/chapters/52602463">Promises to Keep</a></p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>written for <a href="https://mastar-week.tumblr.com/">@mastar-week</a> 2020, day 3// <strong>legacy</strong>. originally posted on <a href="https://soundofez.tumblr.com/post/620532918451912704/">tumblr</a>.</p><p>slight spoilers for We Fill the Skies. <strong>warnings:</strong> grief/mourning for character death.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sebastian Black was tired.</p><p>It wasn’t the exhaustion of travelling for two weeks— travelling didn’t tire Seb like that. Seb didn’t <em>get</em> tired, usually, except from Elsewhere storms, and that wasn’t exhaustion so much as it was nauseated sickness, brought on by the feeling of magic trying to escape from his body to that mysterious other plane via fishhoks in his gut.</p><p>Seb didn’t get tired, except that now he was.</p><p>He hadn’t seen the note when he’d gotten back— it had been late, and he hadn’t want to wake the roommate he’d thought asleep in the next room. Instead, he’d crashed straight into his bed and gone to sleep himself, already looking forward to catching up in the morning.</p><p>Now, the desert sun was shining through the kitchen window, promising a hot day. Seb stood at the kitchen table, note in hand, and he was tired.</p><p><em>Papa died,</em> the note read. <em>I’m taking his ashes back to the Forest. Be back a week before classes start.</em></p>
<hr/><p>Seb was the only University affiliate to come home from the expedition. He didn’t like thinking about that, about how his professor and his classmate had gone missing, about how the other three students had all stayed behind while he’d gone home like a coward.</p><p>They hadn’t told him, either. That’s what hurt the most, if he thought too hard: that they’d simply agreed without him. And maybe Seb hadn’t talked to Ford much, but he’d spent every day with Kilik and Casper, and still they’d said nothing. They’d waited until the last second to tell him, too late for him to do anything, when even the Academy people had seemed to know what they were up to. They hadn’t given him a <em>choice</em>.</p><p>Max hadn’t told him, either, back before they’d even left on the expedition. Max had been chosen, not Ford, and yet when Seb had first arrived at the announced point of departure, he’d found Ford waiting there instead.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” Seb had asked.</p><p>“He didn’t tell you?” Ford had replied. “He gave me his place on the expedition.”</p><p>Max hadn’t told him. Seb hadn’t admitted that to Ford, had ignored Ford’s silent pity. It wasn’t Ford’s business.</p><p>And Ford had seemed to agree. They’d talked on the expedition— the group was too small for them not to— but Seb had kept him at a steady distance, even as he’d listened with rapt attention to Ford’s many stories.</p><p>Maybe he shouldn’t have kept that distance. Maybe Ford would have said something if he had.</p><p>Seb didn’t do regret. The concept was anathema to him. You couldn’t change the past: your only option was to do your best in the present. He got frustrated with Max, sometimes, because Max seemed to regret <em>everything</em>.</p><p>Seb didn’t do regret, and he wasn’t about to start. He stuffed some coin into his pocket and left the empty apartment to find some food.</p>
<hr/><p>Ford wrote to him first.</p><p>Seb was surprised. He wasn’t much for letters, preferring action instead. (Max scolded him for this all the time, but Seb was vaguely aware of the hypocrisy. Seb wasn’t the one who furiously applied twice to the University with different genders to prove a point, and then had to scramble for housing when the point was proved.)</p><p>Seb wasn’t stupid. He knew he wasn’t normal, not just because his already-rare gift for magic was especially strong, but because his mind ran on different tracks from everyone else. His classmates teased him for asking dumb questions in class, but Seb had some of the best grades in the University, and it was only a little bit because Max helped him study. (<em>You’re an auditory learner,</em> Max had once told him. <em>There’s nothing wrong with that.</em>)</p><p>Point being, Seb could <em>read</em>, he just didn’t like to because it took so much <em>effort</em>. It was with some surprise that he found his eyes on Ford’s neat signature, having devoured the rest of the letter. He’d enjoyed listening to Ford’s stories during the expedition, but he hadn’t expected the enjoyment to transfer to Ford’s writing.</p><p>His eyes dropped to the last line, tucked plainly under the signature:</p><p>
  <em>P.S. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.</em>
</p><p>Seb read the postscript several times. It would be just like Ford to <em>get</em> it, the creep. He shook his head, but he grabbed a pen and paper from the kitchen’s junk drawer and sat down to write a reply.</p><p>When he was done with Ford’s letter, he grabbed more paper and started another.</p>
<hr/><p>Max’s letter came a day before Max did. It sounded almost normal, filled with their usual banter (<em>You picked up a pen without me? Is there someone you want to tell me about?</em>), but it also told Seb when Max would be home.</p><p>Seb spent the entire day at home doing chores. When he heard Max’s familiar footsteps on the stairs outside, he immediately positioned himself at the front door.</p><p>It worked. Max opened the door and walked directly into Seb’s open arms.</p><p>“You should have told me,” Seb grumbled into Max’s hair. It had grown since he’d last seen her. Underneath the smell of sweat and desert sand and sun was a hint of green earth. “I would’ve stayed.”</p><p>“I didn’t want you to,” Max mumbled, and burst into tears. “Damn it. <em>Damn it.</em>”</p><p>Seb hugged her tighter, rocking gently on his feet. “They didn’t wring you out in the Forest, did they?” he teases gently. “Amateurs.”</p><p>They didn’t bother untangling themselves as they sank onto the couch of their tiny living room. Seb shared memories of cool mountain air, of red dust seeping into his boots and staining his clothes, his chin knocking against the top of Max’s head. Max returned the favor, recalling the damp shade of the Forest’s enormous trees, the looming closeness of the canopy as it blocked out the stars, her breath warm against his collar.</p><p>When their stomachs growled, Seb shooed Max away to clean up while Seb toasted some bread with the Elsewhere’s fire. They settled around the kitchen table for a simple meal of buttered bread and a wedge of cheese, and this time Max asked after Ford.</p><p>Seb snorted. “Why do you care about that creep?”</p><p>Max shrugged. “He knows what he’s doing. After me, he’s the obvious choice.” She scowled. “And I want to make sure he didn’t mess around too much. I recommended him, so his performance affects me, too.”</p><p>“He stayed.”</p><p>Max looked up. “What?”</p><p>Seb’s throat was unexpectedly tight. He tore off a mouthful of bread, chewed slowly, swallowed. “It went wrong. The expedition.”</p><p>Max looked livid. “<em>What did he do.</em>”</p><p>Seb shook his head. “No, it wasn’t Ford’s fault, it was Kim.” He made a face.</p><p>Max’s anger didn’t complete subside, but she still snorted. “I should’ve known.”</p><p>Seb grinned at her, but the expression died quickly. “The expedition went wrong,” he repeated. “Everyone else… stayed in the mountains.”</p><p>Finally, Max seemed to sense his emotions. “What happened?” she asked.</p><p>Seb exploded, suddenly frustrated. “<em>Nobody told me!</em>” he snapped. “First Jack and Kim go missing, then Professor Montero disappears— they say he’s <em>dead</em>! And then we just— kept researching with Professor Yumi, and I thought maybe that was it, because what the hell was anyone supposed to do?</p><p>“Then, as we’re leaving, Kilik and Casper and <em>Ford</em> all say they’re staying, they have ‘relatives’ or something—” he adorned the words with finger quotes— “but I <em>know</em> they’re looking into it! And they didn’t tell me— they’d all let the University know, or something, but not me.</p><p>“Professor Yumi escorted me home. Just me!” He looked at his hands, dragged his fingers like claws through the air, yanking at the magic that hung there and everywhere else. Gold fire pooled into his palms. “Because I’m a mage. Because I’m <em>powerful</em>, but that puts me in danger up there, or something. But hey, Kilik got to stay, and he’s a better mage than me!” He ripped more and more gold from the air, snarled, “Stupid <em>Sebastian</em> doesn’t know anything, so why bother telling him?”</p><p>He quieted when Max wrapped her hands around his fingers. He was shaking, he noticed dimly. His vision was a golden blur. His lungs heaved with the effort of drawing so much raw magic.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know I should have told you. I just— I couldn’t. Not then. I c-couldn’t say anything about Papa, not then, so I just… didn’t.”</p><p>Seb didn’t get it, not really. It felt like their differences surrounding regret: he simply didn’t look at the past, but Max overflowed with what-ifs and if-onlys. He sensed it now, something fundamentally different about them, that while he sought company to relieve his pain, Max retreated from people to… to drown in it, maybe. (<em>To digest,</em> Max would tell him later.)</p><p>Seb didn’t get it, but this wasn’t the first time he didn’t get something. At least he knew how to ask.</p><p>He breathed, and slowly the gold faded from his vision. All the remained was just Max, just <em>Maka</em>, his oldest friend.</p><p>“What happened?” he asked her, and this time she told him.</p><p>The bustle of the Albarn clan had felt so much like her Papa, yet not. Maka hadn’t grown up in the Forest, and Spirit Albarn hadn’t spoken of his family, only of his beloved wife, Maka’s mother. The Albarns had loved Maka, but she hadn’t been <em>family</em> like Spirit was. It had hurt, so much, to see her Papa’s smothering affection directed at everyone but her.</p><p>“I would have gone with you,” Seb said. (<em>I would have smothered you, if only you’d told me to,</em> he would have said, if only he could find the words.)</p><p>“I know,” Maka replied, and smiled sadly. “But it wouldn’t be the same.” But she let him hug her anyway, and instead of going to their separate rooms they curled up on the couch together and fell asleep catching up.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. My heart is like paper and yours is like flame - Soul Evans</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>"Soul," said the Rangers' hero. Evans startled. "Stay with the mages," the older man said.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Evans was already helping Seb sit by the fireplace. He looked relieved, but he swept his eyes over the outdoor team with something like determination. "Yes, sir." He met Oscar's gaze. "Good luck."</em>
</p><p>- We Fill the Skies, Chapter Five: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22004395/chapters/52602526">The Coming Storm</a></p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>originally written for an <a href="https://soundofez.tumblr.com/post/624937373678108672/prompt-me">ask prompt</a> and posted on <a href="https://soundofez.tumblr.com/post/629907862432464896/prompt-me-number-4-maybe-starxliz-or-sostar-your">tumblr</a>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The outdoor team clattered back into the dining hall, and Soul did not get to them first. His reaction times were always slow: that was one of the things Jack teased him about. (But Jack wasn’t here.)</p><p>Sebastian Black stumbled toward him. Soul caught the smaller man, ignored the clammy dampness of his skin, helped him sink to the ground next to the fire pit.</p><p>Soul had seen Seb like this once before. “A storm?” he murmured.</p><p>Seb shook his head. “Slavers,” the mage croaked.</p>
<hr/><p>The outdoor team clattered into the dining hall, and Soul did not yet know what it meant. He hadn’t even had a chance to process that two of his teammates were missing.</p><p>“Soul,” said the Rangers’ hero, said the pinnacle of everything Soul was supposed to be, and Soul snapped to attention. “Stay with the mages,” said the Rangers’ hero.</p><p>Soul felt exposed, felt relieved. “Yes, sir,” he replied, and wished the rescuers luck.</p>
<hr/><p>Soul knew how to be a Hero with a capital H. He knew how to straighten his spine and raise his voice and take command. He was an Evans: heroing was in his blood.</p><p>Except it wasn’t. Soul hated this: hated being in charge, hated this responsibility. He did not want to lead people into harm, did not want his ineptitude to cost lives: he wanted to bring them home and bandage their wounds and bully them into taking their medicine. He wanted, even now, to brew chamomile tea for the mages and press hot meat buns into their hands.</p><p>The dining hall was too large. Soul ached to drag them all into the courtyard, to cram everyone into his tent. It would be a tactical nightmare, of course, to block everyone’s line of sight like that. They would be sitting ducks. (And the rescuers would worry, if they came back and found them all gone. When they came back.)</p><p>The dining hall was too large. Logically, Soul knew that the only way to approach them was from the front hall. Illogically, his brain kept insisting that the kitchen was behind them, even though it had long since collapsed. He knew this. He’d drawn the floor plans, had measured and remeasured the distances. It was impossible for anyone to approach from the kitchen.</p><p>He did not turn to look at the kitchen. He did not turn to look at the mages he now guarded. He stood with sword and shield at hand and watched the open threshold of the dining hall and waited.</p>
<hr/><p>Soul slouched all the time. He was tall, taller than even Kilik, but he slouched so much that Seb always forgot.</p><p>He wasn’t slouching now. His spine was unbending, his head raised, his shoulders thrown back. It was not a proud back, though it could easily be mistaken for one: but Seb had seen proud spines too often to be mistaken now. No, Soul’s back was that of a soldier’s: duty-bound, inhuman, and entirely too old for a sixteen-year-old boy.</p>
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